Aran's Lament: The Tale of the Unheard Soldier
by Zincspider
Summary: Well, Aran's tired of it. He isn't recognized for any of his work, and he is really starting to get pissed. Will he take out his anger on the Goddess Ashera? Or on his own Teammates?


OOC: Hello, this is Zincspider, and this is my First FanFiction on

My plan here is to use my favorite character, Aran, from Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn. Anyone who has played the game knows that he is the most underdeveloped character in the game, and possibly the series. But he is an AWESOME unit, capping almost every stat on 20/20/20.

Too bad no one knows him. So I thought he might get a little mad at that. And a little sad. So why not make him his own story, showing him for the person who has been ignored everywhere.

Now please enjoy, Aran's Lament

~Zinc

*I do not own any of these characters, or the whole story line... I own nothing of Fire Emblem, this is a non-profit fan peace... DUH*

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The Tower of Guidance. The main objective of their journey had been to reach it, and there it was. A sight to behold surely, so many stories high the tip could not be seen while standing within half a mile next to the giant concrete structure. The small force of less than one hundred skilled soldiers was dwarfed by its mere presence. Out of all of these warriors though, only one was not satisfied by its sight. Only one wasn't happy to have finally arrived at the destination they have been striving for. This man, was Aran Hawkins.

Usually, his short sea-foam green hair would have been waving gently in a small breeze, but nothing had blown (save for Soren's wind magic) ever since Ashera, goddess of order, froze everything. Oh what he would do to get back the disorder in the world. Nothing seemed right without it. He didn't hear birds in the sky, chirping for no evident reason. He didn't feel the wind smack his face as he walked. No children played in the streets, but all were petrified in that grotesque state of stony torture… at least they will be until Ashera is defeated. The goddess had gone too far when she woke up. He still found it hard to believe that the goddess he had worshipped since childhood had done this.

But even with all the reasons to be joyful that this could be over. He wasn't. It meant that he only had one more chance to do what he needed to. Only one chance to prove what he had been trying to do since he joined the Dawn Brigade many moons ago.

Not only that, but no one seemed to pay attention to him. Ike and Micaiah were the focus of attention where ever they went, leaving him to be shunned and to shine his blue armor over and over again. Never with anyone to talk to in the new, stiff world… well, all except one person. Laura, his childhood friend and… well that's all she was at the moment.

Never the less, he sighed as soon as he caught sight of the huge structure. He had to act tomorrow, or he will lose the best opportunity.

"It all comes down to this, my last chance," Aran murmured, his deep voice barely reaching the ears of the person next him, Gatrie, the Knight.

Gatrie was a man of mighty stature. Reaching almost six and a half feet tall, and wearing an ensemble of full plate, bright blue, gold trimmed, shining armor that made him seem twice his already intimidating size. A blazing smile of bright white teeth gleamed over the neck guard on Gatrie's armor, and reflected the light of the sun into Aran's eyes. Aran still didn't know how Gatrie could be such a slob and keep everything about his person clean, while he himself could spend an hour cleaning his armor and it would be just as dirty as it was before, the next day.

"Your last chance? You have plenty of chances to court the fair maiden, Laura, after this is over. Don't be so modest, there mate. You sell yourself short, and that's where you will get." Gatrie laughed, slapping Aran on the back. If he hadn't been wearing the standard issue infantry armor from Begnion, he would have had to look for his breathe on the ground after it got knocked out of him. Well, maybe two people paid attention to him. Gatrie was the resident chick chaser, but the stock of women in the world had recently decreased, so he had reduced himself to a gossip. He had been trying to get Aran to talk to Laura for a long time now. But Aran knew he wouldn't. He was nothing more than a brother to her, and that was it.

"No, not about that Gatrie. My last chance to…" Aran began to answer, but was cut off by someone knocking into him. He looked around to see that everyone was starting to set up camp. He threw his weapons down, and proceeded to set up his own tent from the knapsack that had been on his back.

"I suggest you start pitching too, Gatrie. You need all the rest you can get for tomorrow," Aran suggested as he bent down to hammer the stakes in, the movement ruffling his brown pants. Gatrie shook his head.

"Nah, I feel great. Never better in fact. I bet I could get myself lucky tonight… where's Vika? She's one fine crow, if I do say so myself." With that, Gatrie stormed off, moving faster than one in heavy armor like that ever should. Aran shook his head at the sight, and proceeded to take off his own armor, revealing a shirt of the same color as his deep, dark, blue painted armor.

"SHE'S A RAVEN!" Aran called after him, cupping his hand around his mouth so the sound would travel further. It obviously didn't go far enough, and he got back to work.

"Gatrie might feel good," Aran spoke to himself, "but I still feel like shit".

-

*Middle of that night*

Aran couldn't get to sleep that night. Even though he didn't want to admit it, his body wasn't as depressed as the rest of him. It was just as full of energy as Gatrie was when he ran off to his (failed) mission (Vika had clawed at his eyes as soon as he asked if she wanted a bite of his 'Large Worm').

So, here he was, on top of one of the little buildings surrounding the tower. The abandoned hut had been easy to get into, but the view was worth much more than the small effort. The stars sparkled in the sky with a radiance that couldn't be matched by anything he had ever seen. They were much brighter than normal, and seemed to be either closer or… clearer. More 'inline'. These stars, mixed with the light of the moon, made a nice light in the cool night of Begnion.

"Everyone knows these stars, but no one knows the name 'Aran Hawkins," Aran sighed, swinging his legs of the edge of the building.

"I know the name"

Aran had no idea who, or what, the voice was, but he grabbed his spear that he had brought for protection all the same. He jumped up, and readied into the battle position. He was met by the smile of Laura. He relaxed at the sight of the cheery grin, and put the weapon down. He turned back to her.

There was a time when he was just a child, and he would play 'Pretend' with her. He would try to use a stick to tackle a dragon (a tree) head on, while protecting the princess (Laura). Now, it hadn't changed much. She still had the same neck length, black hair that curled in on the ends. Her white attire had not changed in anything except sizes as she got taller, as she had always worn the robes of a priestess from a young age.

But she wasn't the only thing that hadn't changed. Lately, he HAD been fighting dragons with a 'stick' of sorts. He kicked his trusty spear at the thought.

The shining head on the weapon had been covered in blood and various pieces of flesh and skin just a while ago. It was impossible to tell now, seeing as he spent almost the whole trip after the battle polishing it, but he and that spear had been through a lot together. That said, he noticed how much he had changed from when he first used it.

When he first joined the Begnion army as a soldier for hire, he would have just thrown the weapon crudely behind him, possibly killing Laura. Now he knew the danger of acting rashly on an actually battle-field. Allies were just as close as enemies, and just as venerable to your attacks.

"How did you find me up here? I thought I snuck out of camp quiet enough," Aran asked, sitting back down, and making room for Laura to sit next to him. She took the few quiet steps and sat in the cleared space. She picked as his shirt.

"This kind of gave you away. You're a big blue guy on a roof."

"What were you doing looking out of the tent?"

"Couldn't get to sleep. I don't think anyone can, with all that's going to happen tomorrow," Laura finished quietly. She laid her head on Aran's arm and closed her brown eyes for a couple seconds… just enough time for Aran to blush and get rid of it. When she opened her eyes, she stared at the stars in silence for a while.

"They are beautiful tonight," Laura whispered. Aran nodded, and kept back his answer of 'they aren't the only beautiful things out here' to himself. He lifted her head off his arm, and used it to pat her head gently, while standing up.

"Aran, just what were YOU doing up, here… if you don't mind me asking. You don't seem very energetic for someone who can't get to sleep. Is something bothering you?" There it was. Aran knew she would soon confront him on why he was here. And he had no choice but to tell her the truth… he could never lie to her. He stopped doing what he was doing and walked back to his spot, but didn't sit. He looked straight up at the stars, and began to speak.

"You know what happened after I left the church right? I was adopted but a merchant. Jim Hawkins. He and I travelled Tellius selling and buying wears." Laura nodded at his beginning, and Aran continued. "Well, when my father died, I returned to Daein just as the war ended, so I was never drafted into service. But I had no livelihood anymore either. I had to join the Begnion settlers' forces just to make any sort of money. Then you and the rest of the Dawn Brigade came along."

"Yes, the Dawn Brigade Bandits! I'm so glad I found them, or the abbot might have died!" Laura exclaimed, jumping to her feet. Aran shook his head, and smiled. He gave up telling her that the Dawn Brigade was a liberation group, and not a group of bandits a long time ago.

"Yeah, well, I was happy to be in a group again. I had travelled alone with my dad for most of my life, and the soldiers treated me like dirt for being a Daein native. But not only was I back in a group, I was with someone I knew. You. But, you were still about the only person who talked to me. No one ever paid attention to anything I ever did, focusing more on Maciah." Aran stopped, and moved over to his spear, and picked it up.

"And then, I fought in a REAL war! I've taken out scores of men on my own, killed countless innocent Laguz, and all because the Prince signed a stupid Blood Pact! And what do I get from it? Nothing! No one knows me, or what I have done!" By now, Aran was almost yelling. He paced fasted, using his Spear as a makeshift walking stick.

"And then, the Fire Emblem releases Yune, goddess of Chaos, who I have been taught was evil. But no, she's not. But Ashera, the Goddess I have assumed was GOOD all my life, gets pissed that a war went on and woke her up, so she petrifies everyone she can, leaving only a few of us able to resist it alive! Then she brought back people who would follow her, and gave them blessed weapons, making them stronger than ever! And I still lived through that!" Now he was yelling. Laura watched, almost scared on how worked up Aran was getting.

"AND WHAT DO I GET FOR ALL MY WORK? NOTHING! NO ONE EVEN KNOWS WHO I AM! FOR ONCE, I WANT TO BE THE HERO!" While ending this sentence, he tossed his spear into the wall in front of him. On impact, the head burst into many pieces. Aran knelt on the ground, slightly heaving. On closer inspection, Laura saw he was crying. She got up, and knelt by him, trying to calm him down. She wrapped her arm as far as she could around his shoulders, and gently rubbed.

"It's ok. It's ok…" she soothed. Aran, still heaved heavily, but he wasn't crying anymore. The cool air was already drying the tears on his face, and the ones that didn't stay went into his mouth between his teeth.

"I… I want to make a difference, and be known for it. But I'm mostly forgotten. You are the only person who REALLY talks to me," he whispered between breathes. He stood up and shook his head. "Look at me. A grown man crying over something that a mere whelp wouldn't care about. I should be ashamed." He walked over to the wall near the doorway, and picked up the remains of his trusty spear.

"You know, it's perfectly alright to cry. You need to let all frustrations out before a battle."

The voice startled Aran into dropping the pieces of the weapon. It was a deep masculine voice, and definitely not Laura's delicate speech. He turned ever so slightly to get a look at General Ike in the doorway. The hero of Crimea stepped further in, and leaned on the wall on the other side, opposite of Aran.

"I had no idea you felt like that Aran. And that's why you need to speak up more often. You think no one listens, but you don't try to talk to others either," Ike stated. Aran looked at the blue-haired warrior, wondering how much he had heard. But what he said was true, he had spent most of his time making sure his shield had all the dents taken out of it.

"But you still need rest, tomorrow we fight for the big picture, and we need everyone we can get out there," Ike finished, walking out the doorway already… but not before finishing with, "And you might want to consider changing your shirt color if you want to hide. You stick out like Wyvern in a line of Pegasi." And he left.

Aran let the shaft of his old weapon fall. He didn't need it anymore. He would borrow a different one from someone tomorrow.

"I guess I better turn in," he muttered to Laura, turning to leave. But he was interrupted but something hitting his back, and nearly knocking him down the stairs in front of him. He turned his head to get a glimpse of Laura hugging his back.

"I want you to know that I still think you're a hero, Aran. You saved me when you joined us bandits. Without you, we would have died."

"I couldn't let anything happen to you."

"Right, which is why I ask you one favor for tomorrow."

"What?"

"Don't die. I couldn't stand it if you did." She looked up at this last sentence, then let go, running down the stairs in front of Aran. He shook his head.

"I made a fool of myself," He muttered, watching the priestess running down the stairs happily. "I missed the best chance I have ever had to tell her how I feel," he whispered, rubbing his hand over the area of his torso that had had her soft arms wrapped around it just a few seconds ago. "And I still have no idea what to do… I wasn't planning on dying anyway…"


End file.
